


Coming Out

by akire_yta



Series: prompt ficlets [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, akificlets, five things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-10
Updated: 2013-08-10
Packaged: 2017-12-23 00:05:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/919642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akire_yta/pseuds/akire_yta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Teen Wolf, Stiles coming out to his dad.<br/>(I didn’t note down who prompted what, btw, so sorry about that.  Also, have a random 5-things-esque fic.  Just because)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming Out

5) Stiles flinched, full body, at the sound of a cleared throat behind him. The keyboard bucked off his lap, and Stiles tried to grab it, alt-tab to a safer browser window, and look nonchalant all at once.

He didn’t think he _quite_ pulled it off. “Dad, hi, home early?” He smiled, feeling his neck flush red, as his finger tapped over to a wikipedia page on…selkies? Fuck, if his dad noticed, it would just have to be for an assignment or something.

Selkies were still a thousand times better than gay porn stories.

His dad just leaned against the doorframe, grinning like a man with a fresh ace up his sleeve. “Yeah, finished early to make up for having to stay late on Monday.” His eyes flashed to the monitor, then back to Stiles. Stiles gaped, mouth forming silently around an explanation. His dad laughed. “Takeout?”

“Low salt,” Stiles said automatically.

The familiarity of the not-argument obviously relaxed his dad. “Pizza is a foodgroup in itself. Come on, kid, live a little.”

Stiles knew he should take the opportunity. “Dad, I like guys at least as much as girls.” Ten words, it should be easy. He heard his voice say instead “extra pepperoni, please.”

He waited til his dad walked on down the hall to facepalm.

4) Stuck on the benches, watching the crowd watch the game, there wasn’t much else to do but think. “Danny, am I…?”

Danny turned around to glare at him. “If this is another fishing expedition for a compliment Stilinski, then forget it!” He crushed his plastic drink container in his hand.

Stiles flinched back, and watched silently as the team heeded the whistle and headed back out onto the pitch. Sitting on the bench, Stiles turned to look up where his dad was sitting with Melissa McCall. “Now’s just not the right time,” he told himself. “He doesn’t need another reason to worry about me.” Stiles hunched down in his pristine pads and watched the rest of the game.

3) The bookstore in the Valley was pretty big for an independent, and more importantly, the owner didn’t know who Stiles was, or who his dad was, or anything. He didn’t comment as he handed over four books, already in a cloth bag bearing the store’s logo branded on the outside. Stiles handed over cash and took his purchases out to the car before looking them over.

The mythology books were harmless enough, and the book of fairytales, a translation of a German original, was a passing curiousity but nothing special in and of itself. They were all big, heavy hardbound books, and the slim paperback had slipped down to the bottom. Stiles tugged it out, barely reading the title, Coming Out, Coming Home, before he jammed it into his backpack, inbetween two other newish books. Hopefully the pack wouldn’t sniff it out, would tally up the scent of new books to the others that Stiles was adding to the small library in the lair.

There was a pack meeting tonight, but his father was working late. He’d read the paperback when he got home and go from there.

2) Technically it wasn’t stealing. It was…. _recycling_. Danny had dropped it, and Stiles knew he had a subscription to Out, so maybe he’d got the new edition already. This one was obviously being thrown out if it was on the floor. Stiles was just being a responsible environmental citizen and all that.

It was well-folded and dog-eared. Stiles smoothed it out with the flat of his hand and hid it between his chemistry book and his maths text on the pile on his desk. Hidden in plain site, it was pretty cunning if he did say so himself.

He went to go put his sports clothes in the wash for training tomorrow. When he came back upstairs, his dad was leaning over his desk, one hand on the maths book. “Dad!”

“Hey kiddo,” his dad said, barely glancing up. “Do you have any staples that will fit this thing?” He waved a tiny mini-stapler. “I’m almost done with these damn files, but if I don’t staple them, I swear I will drop them.”

“Murphy’s Law,” Stiles agreed, mouth dry. His father leaned forward, looking for staples, and the textbook shifted slightly, revealing a couple of inches of cover. “Here, let me, you know I have a system,” he said, almost body-checking his dad out the way, the words tumbling together in one long stream. Luckily, his own stapler was right there in the top drawer, two googly eyes stuck on top where Scott had gotten bored in homeroom. “Here,” he thrust it over, eyes forward.

“Thanks,” his dad said drily, looking at the eyes. He headed for the door, and paused. “You okay, Stiles?”

“Peachy keen,” he chirped, angling his body to get between his dad and the books.

His dad raised an eyebrow, but left. Stiles deflated. Peachy keen? Who was he, Beaver? Waiting til he heard footsteps on the stairs, he grabbed the magazine and jammed it back into his backpack. He’d shove it back into Danny’s locker before training tomorrow.

1) “Dad, I think I’m bisexual.” His heart stopped beating. This was obviously proof of the bucket theory of mind. Think a thought often enough, and it fills you up and comes spilling out at the most _inappropriate time ever._

His dad looked at him over the top of his glasses. “Good for you,” he said after a pause. Stiles gaped. “What, did you want a ticker tape parade? You know whether you’re gay, straight or whatever, doesn’t matter, I’d love you just the same.” 

Stiles swallowed hard. “I….I know,” he managed weakly. 

Now his dad frowned. “Stiles, I know things….haven’t been easy between us lately, but you’re my son. And whether you bring home to me a son-in-law or a daughter-in-law or both, I really, truly don’t care as long as you’re happy.” 

“Both?” Stiles laughed. “I think you’re over-estimating my attractiveness there, dad.” 

His father laughed. “Of course that’s what you pick up on. But you get me, right?” 

Stiles nodded. His stomach was still roiling, but it felt good to have it out there. “Yeah. I do. Thanks dad.” 


End file.
